


Just as always

by JohnLockDivision



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:45:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnLockDivision/pseuds/JohnLockDivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John in his therapist's office 6 months after Sherlock's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just as always

“It’s been 6 months John.”

No it hadn’t.   
It had been 25 weeks, 3 days, 5 hours and 30 minutes since he had last spoken to Sherlock.  
Roughly.   
And it still hurt.

“Why do you come here if you don’t want to talk?”

Why? Because that’s what you’re meant to do.  
Why? Because when your friends look at you with pity in their eyes that’s what you’re meant to do.  
Why? Because when it’s a struggle just to get up in the morning and your friends can’t look at you without pity in their eyes that’s what you’re meant to do.  
You visit a shrink.

Although a little part of John was doing it just to hear Sherlock’s voice telling him how ridiculous it was.

“Ok, well if you don’t want to talk about yourself, what about everyone else? How are they coping?”

John wasn’t sure. He had barely left their/his/the flat in 6 months. He and Mrs Hudson had been quiet together...until Greg had become friends with her in lieu of John, and they were now comforting each other at Molly’s housewarming with her not-gay boyfriend.   
John had been invited.  
He hadn’t replied.  
Mycroft was probably working. John didn’t know and he didn’t care – none of them had cared about Sherlock as much as he did.  
So none of them hurt this much.

“Have you done anything we talked about last time? Have you begun to tidy your flat yet?”

“Ours.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s our flat. Sherlock would kill me if I moved the skull.”

A pause. Pen scratching. No doubt ‘delusional’ or ‘denial’ would be there somewhere.  
John didn’t care.

“What about keeping busy. Have you been getting out of the house, doing things?”

Yes, he had been ‘getting out of the house’.   
Daily.  
To visit Sherlock’s grave.  
But that’s probably not what she meant.

“I have been doing...things.”

Like looking for new cases for Sherlock...and trying not to look for Sherlock.

“What about work? Given any thought to going back?”

No. 

That’s what John was about to say...but then he saw a distinctive Belstaff grey disappearing behind a tree outside, and suddenly John didn’t care anymore.  
He followed the coat, just like always.  
He left his cane behind, just like always.  
Sherlock told him his therapist was useless, just like always.


End file.
